So I got back to Wenatchee a few days ago and I think I decided not to return to Redmond.

If someone were to have asked me a few months ago if I would ever come back to live in Wenatchee, I probably would have chuckled and thought of a delicate way to say "yeah right, lol". Now I have a meeting with an adviser at Wenatchee Valley College on Friday. I don't know what I'm doing at all anymore.

At least I'm still writing music and now working on a comic book. That should be good.

Fresh starts for worn-out hearts.

Goddamn it, I needed to rhyme.

So I go to visit my grandmother at the hospital today. She had part of her hip replaced with cement last night. I wasn't aware that hips in particular were prone to infection, but apparently I am neither hip, nor knowledgable therein. She's in the intensive care area, which, if you are not on the low-down, means she needs intensive care.

She doesn't even look like my grandma at first. Not until she smiles at me can I recognize her. She has an I.V. on each side of the bed and a heart rate monitor beeping monotonously. She's well enough to pull those nose-breather things out in order to scratch inside her nostril. She's on a lot of drugs.

The first thing she asks me when I get close to her is if I can see the giant bugs crawling on the ceiling. I look around and tell her I can't, but I'm jealous that she can. She explains that she's been watching these goddamn bugs all day, crawling back and forth. She knows she's hallucinating, but she can't stop seeing them. I tell her it sounds entertaining and she agrees.

As the conversation escalates, she tells me about the nice male nurse that gave her a bath this morning. She was freezing cold and his touch was incredibly warm, thus feeling extremely pleasant. I can't verify this personally, but I take her word. With his body warmth in consideration, she asks him what it would take to get him into her bed to warm her up. I'm laughing wholeheartedly as she explains this, while she drifts in and out of consciousness.

She tells me she didn't realize until well after he left that he likely interpreted this proposal with sexual connotations, but she thinks it's more amusing than it is embarassing. Again, we agree.

She then divulges small portion of her sexual tricks-of-the-trade to me. From her experience, she tells me, the bigger the man is, the quicker they "go". She tells me my grandpa usually goes for about five minutes with her. This guy, however, being quite bulky and of African decent, would likely only last about two minutes. I can't really contest her argument at this point, as far-fetched as it might sound. And I'm laughing quite hard. This is not my ideal naughty hospital scenario.

I realize I'm writing this entirely in present-tense.

Right now my family is not sure my grandma will live to step outside of the hospital. I'm going to visit her again tomorrow morning. These could be my last memories of her.

And she still kicks ass.

I believe I need no introduction.